


Yes, Sir

by mikkimouse



Series: Yes, Sir [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Galaxy Garrison, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Teacher-Student Relationship, not really - see end notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 19:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11835168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: "Are you all ready to get started?""Yes, sir!" twenty voices answered in unison.Shiro's stomach flipped at the words.Oh, no.The soulmark on his right wrist burned, confirmation that his soulmate was one of the twenty people who'd just uttered the phrase.Oh, shit.





	Yes, Sir

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Ahahaha I'm just gonna write a little thing for "yes, sir."  
> Brain: Hey so what if Shiro's soulmark was "yes, sir" and the first time he heard it was in a class of 20 people all answering him in unison  
> Me: Oh, that could be fun!  
> Me: *8000 words and 2 planned sequels later* I hate you.
> 
> This fic brought to you by the fact that Keith calls Shiro "sir" when no one else does and I will literally never be over it. (Also brought to you by the fact that the first day's prompt for Sheith Month was "Yes, Sir," but I am not fast. It kind of works for day 17's prompt, "Past," right? Right??)
> 
> Thank you to [Kalira](http://kalira9.tumblr.com/) for suggesting Shiro's rank at the Galaxy Garrison (and for listening to me wail about this story for the past week), and thank you to [domesticated-chaos](http://domesticated-chaos.tumblr.com/) and [cobrilee](http://cobrilee.tumblr.com/) for the beta read. <3 All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> If you see any tags I missed, let me know!

Shiro surreptitiously tugged on the sleeves of his uniform, trying to straighten them. Was it too tight? It felt like his uniform might be too tight. 

_Deep breaths_ , he ordered himself. _Relax. Iverson wouldn't have asked you to assist if he didn't think you could handle it._

Commander Iverson was in the midst of putting the fear of God into the advanced pilot class: twenty junior recruits chosen after two years at the Garrison to go on an accelerated training track. Shiro had taken it when he was a cadet and graduated with top scores; as such, he'd been given the option to assist with the course now that he was a pilot. He'd jumped at the chance. He loved flying, and getting the opportunity to mentor younger cadets was a dream come true. 

"Your teaching assistant for this year is Command Pilot Shirogane," Iverson snapped out. "He's a better pilot than any of you will ever be, so ignore him at your own peril. Pilot!" 

Shiro immediately saluted, and then relaxed and smiled at the class. "Hi, I'm Takashi Shirogane, but you can call me Shiro."

He went through the brief outline for what the class would entail—he himself wouldn't be doing as much of the actual teaching, but instead focusing more on one-on-one stuff with the students if they needed additional help. The Garrison wasn't kidding when they called it an advanced class. Some of the recruits looked a little overwhelmed as he spoke; Shiro tried to give them a reassuring smile. 

"And that's basically it," he finished. "Are you all ready to get started?"

"Yes, sir!" twenty voices answered in unison. 

Shiro's stomach flipped at the words. _Oh, no_.

The soulmark on his right wrist burned, confirmation that his soulmate was one of the twenty people who'd just uttered the phrase. 

_Oh, shit._

***

Even though he'd felt the telltale burn, Shiro headed straight for the bathroom after the class was dismissed and shoved his sleeve up to check. 

Before, the letters had been faded pink, slightly raised from his skin with just enough contrast that Shiro could read them. Now, they were black, a stark contrast to the thin skin of the inside of his wrist.

Shiro ran his thumb over the letters. He'd always wondered what the situation would be that his soulmate's first words to him would be "Yes, sir" in _English_. He had to admit, _this_ situation had never occurred to him. 

Which, on reflection, was probably poor foresight on his part. He _was_ at the Galaxy Garrison, after all. 

He sighed. The Garrison had some fairly strict policies on fraternization, regardless of soulmarks. While he wouldn't get kicked out for finding his soulmate, pursuing any kind of romantic relationship before he was finished with his term as teaching assistant—and before his soulmate had graduated—would put him on _very_ thin ice. 

Shiro tugged his sleeve back down to hide the mark and thudded his head against the bathroom mirror. 

It was going to be a long year.

***

By the end of August, Shiro had spent in-depth one-on-one time with four of the students in his class and had ruled all of them out as his soulmate. It was disappointing, but then again, it had only been a few weeks. 

Admittedly, though, he couldn't be _too_ disappointed none of them were his. They were all perfectly decent people and excellent pilots, but nothing had clicked. After each one had left the little office he shared with two other assistants, Shiro had pulled back his sleeve just enough to peek at his soulmark. Even after nearly a month, it was still so strange to see it black. 

He'd let Iverson know that his soulmate was someone in the advanced class, half-expecting Iverson to take him off the class and give it to someone else. Instead, the response had been a gruff "Don't look too hard for 'em until they graduate" before Shiro had been dismissed from the room.

The semester moved on, and while Shiro never forgot about his soulmate, it was easy to push it to the back of his mind with so much happening. He had his own courses to worry about in addition to his work as assistant; not to mention, he was in the running with three other pilots to go on some scientific mission that the Garrison administration was keeping _very_ quiet at the moment. That had its own tests and interviews, and Shiro was struggling to keep up. Finding his soulmate got pushed very quickly to the bottom of the list. 

Halfway through September, he was just leaving his office to head back to his dorm when he nearly bowled over a cadet standing right outside the door. 

The cadet jerked back, faster than Shiro would have, and he had to admire the guy's reflexes. 

"Sorry!" Shiro quickly apologized, and stepped back to see who he'd nearly run over. 

He recognized the cadet, one of the three Korean students in the advanced class, and had to think a minute to place him. "Keith, right?" 

The cadet nodded. "Yeah, um..." 

Shiro juggled his books to his left arm and held out his hand. "Just call me Shiro. What can I do for you?" 

Keith looked from Shiro down to his hand and back again, like he was trying to decide whether to shake it. "Um. Navigation." 

"Navigation?" Shiro repeated, hoping that some more explanation was forthcoming. 

Keith crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the floor. "I, uh, I'm having trouble in Carter's navigation class. She told me to get help." 

Shiro winced sympathetically. Carter's class was not for the faint of heart. "Sure, we can work something out. Where are your scores right now?" 

Keith handed over his tablet and went back to glaring at the floor, but this time, there was misery in his stance, rather than discomfort. "If I don't get my scores up, they'll kick me out."

Shiro took a look at the score, and then read it again to make sure he'd understood correctly. Holy cow, it was a miracle they hadn't kicked Keith out of the program already.

He held the tablet back out, and Keith snatched it and shoved it into his jacket. He continued not to look at Shiro, continued to keep his arms crossed over his chest like some kind of barricade between the two of them. 

Shiro took a deep breath. Something told him this one was going to be a challenge, but that was why he'd said yes to this assignment, wasn't it? 

He mentally revised his plan to head straight back to his dorm room. "Why don't we hit the mess hall and get some dinner, and we'll talk out a tutoring schedule over food?" 

For the first time since their awkward introduction, Keith actually _looked_ at Shiro, for one brief hopeful moment before his eyes narrowed again, suspicious. "You'll help me?" 

That was not the reaction Shiro had expected. "Yes? That's...my job." 

Keith ducked his head. "Yeah, well, it's not like anyone else would," he mumbled. 

Shiro wasn't entirely sure if he was supposed to have heard that. He clapped Keith on the shoulder and steered him down the hall. "Well, I'm going to. Now come on, let's find something to eat. You should never set up a tutoring schedule on an empty stomach."

***

They set up tutoring sessions three days a week, and even though navigation would be the focus, Shiro made sure Keith understood he was to bring any homework he was having problems with. It didn't sound like he was having quite as much trouble in his other classes, but he'd looked so miserable at the thought of getting kicked out of the program that Shiro didn't want to chance it. 

Fortunately, it seemed Keith's biggest problem was that he didn't do too well in classroom settings with an impatient teacher—Carter was a genius, Shiro knew, but she was not terrifically patient with those who couldn't keep up with her. When it was just Keith and Shiro, he grasped the concepts pretty quickly. 

Keith also had an instinctive understanding of certain things, sometimes jumping four or five steps ahead to get to the right answer, but forcing him to show his work resulted in a lot of frustration on both their parts. 

"But I got the right answer!" he argued after the third time Shiro admonished him for not writing down _how_. 

"You did, but we need to see how you get there. _You_ need to be able to see how you get there," Shiro said. "If you make a mistake—" 

"I don't," Keith cut in. 

Shiro rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to cuff him upside the back of the head. "You're human. You will. If you don't know how to _see_ how you solved the problem, you won't know where to go back to fix it. And other people won't be able to help you." 

Keith glared at the tablet in front of him like he could set it on fire. 

Shiro bit back a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. Keith was smart, and he had the potential to be a brilliant pilot, but he was also stubborn as hell. "Tell you what," Shiro said. "You show your work on the rest of those nav problems, and we'll call it an early night on the tutoring and hit the gym." 

Keith frowned. "The gym?" 

"I've seen your combat scores," Shiro said. "Do you want to do your nav homework for the tenth time, or do you want to spar?" 

Keith's eyes lit up in a way Shiro hadn't seen once in the three weeks they'd been tutoring. "You want to spar with me?" 

Shiro jerked his chin at the paper. "Finish that up, and we'll see what you've got."

***

He'd only half-expected the bribe to work, but within half an hour, Keith had redone all of his work, showing—mostly—how he'd gotten his answers. 

It was better than Shiro had seen him do before, so he'd take it. 

He shut his own computer and tablet and shoved them into his backpack. "You ready?" 

Keith nodded vigorously and jumped to his feet. 

They walked down the halls to the gym in silence, but it wasn't awkward. Admittedly, Shiro had only been tutoring him for three weeks, but he had a feeling Keith was the type who didn't say much in general. Shiro didn't feel particularly pushed to break the silence, either. 

They reached the gym, and Shiro got them into the locker room so they could stow their bags and change. He took off his long-sleeved uniform shirt and left it folded on top of his bag, and also took off his boots. Beside him, Keith did the same, haphazardly tossing his own shirt into the locker and kicking his boots off onto the floor next to it. 

Shiro bit his lip against an admonishment. It didn't matter, right now, and Keith was the one who'd have to pick it up when they left. 

They walked out onto the sparring mats, and Shiro took one end while Keith took the other. 

"You sure you want to do this?" Keith asked with a cocky smirk. 

Shiro snorted. "I think I can handle you." 

Keith put up his gloved hands in loose fists. "You've seen my combat scores." 

Now it was Shiro's turn to grin. "You haven't seen mine." 

He settled into a stance, and Keith charged across the mat to meet him. He got off two quick punches, both of which Shiro blocked easily, and they seemed more like they were meant to test him rather than cause any pain. The next three strikes were also easy to block, which was probably also intentional. 

Shiro didn't mind. Keith's testing gave him an opportunity to test him in return. He'd seen Keith's combat scores, had read what some of his instructors had to say, so he'd had some idea of what to expect, but it was still different from actually _fighting_ him. 

Keith was a full head shorter than Shiro and probably a good twenty kilograms lighter, whip-thin in a way that suggested he hadn't quite finished growing yet. He practically danced around the mat, far faster than Shiro was, darting in and out for quick strikes. Smart of him to rely on his speed, rather than strength, particularly against an opponent who _was_ stronger than him. 

Shiro waited him out, blocking the blows he could and taking a few that he wasn't quite fast enough to block. The advantage to his size in a fight with a smaller opponent was that he could take the hits, could wear them down. 

Keith, however, was not wearing down. He feinted to one side, and Shiro fell for it, taking two lightning-fast kicks to his side before Keith was out of range again. Shiro turned just in time to block Keith's next attack, which came at him from an entirely different angle. 

Okay. So he needed to stop underestimating him, then. 

When Keith came at him again, Shiro let him, and then charged the second Keith skipped away. Keith's eyes widened, and then _he_ had to block, and Shiro was pleased to see his rhythm break. The small smirk Keith had been wearing since they started fighting vanished, replaced by a thin-lipped intensity, and Shiro had to fight back his own grin. 

Keith was almost as quick on the defense as he was on the offense, but now Shiro could see he wasn't used to having someone who could challenge him in a fight. He caught the first opening he spotted and swept Keith's ankle out from under him, and a split second later, had him pinned on the mat. 

He stayed there, taking a breath to relish his victory, while Keith glowered at him. 

Keith's eyes were faintly purple. Huh. He hadn't noticed that before. 

Shiro shook off the realization and stood, holding out his hand to help Keith up. "When was the last time you lost a sparring match?" 

Keith continued to glower, and didn't reach for Shiro's hand. "I haven't." 

_That_ was a surprise. Shiro raised his eyebrows. "Then they need to put you in another class."

Keith shrugged. "I guess they think I'm too small for it." 

"That's ridiculous," Shiro said. "I'll talk to Iverson. You need to be sparring with people who can challenge you, or you'll never get any better." 

Keith blinked at him. "Really? You'll talk to Commander Iverson?"

"Yes, really." Shiro wiggled his fingers. "Are you going to sit there all night, or do you want to grab some dinner?" 

Keith dropped his gaze back to the mat, and then swung his hand up to grab Shiro's. Shiro pulled him up, and Keith's fingers brushed over his soulmark. 

Shiro was so shocked he almost let go. 

Keith's eyes went huge, and he yanked his hand away and stumbled back. "Sorry, I didn't—"

"It's okay," Shiro said quickly. It wasn't exactly taboo to touch someone else's soulmark, but generally people didn't. "I should've wrapped it before we sparred. I wasn't thinking." 

Keith nodded jerkily. "Sorry," he muttered again. 

Shiro sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. "It's okay," he repeated. "Come on, let's get something to eat."

***

Shiro worried that things might be awkward after that, but instead, they fell back into their normal routine. Three days a week, Keith was waiting in the hall for Shiro to finish his office hours, Shiro would tutor him for an hour, and then they'd either grab dinner or hit the mats for another sparring session. 

He'd never doubted Keith's intelligence, but it was clear that fighting was where Keith excelled. He studied Shiro's moves and copied them quickly, sometimes even in the same fight. It was getting harder to stay ahead of him, and Shiro had to pull out tricks he only rarely used to keep the upper hand. 

The first chance he got, he asked Iverson to move Keith to a more advanced combat class. 

Iverson snorted at him. "Have you seen that kid? He's skin and bones. He'll get slaughtered if we put him in with Campbell." 

Shiro didn't laugh. "I've been sparring with him for two weeks, sir. He _needs_ to be moved up. Nobody in his class can challenge him, and honestly I'm not sure many people in Campbell's class can, either." 

"You're kicking his ass," Iverson pointed out. 

"Barely." 

"His grades are shit." 

Shiro gritted his teeth. "His grades are average, but his combat and simulator scores are off the charts. He's better than I was." 

Iverson scoffed. "Don't make me laugh, Shirogane." 

Shiro clenched his fists behind his back. "I'm not joking, _sir_." 

Iverson sat back in his desk and studied Shiro. "You really think that." 

"I _know_ it." Shiro took a deep breath. "He'll get his grades up. But, sir...you need to throw everything the Garrison has at him. Challenge him. He has the potential to be the best pilot we've ever seen. Easily."

Iverson eyed Keith's file on the tablet in front of him. "I'll take it under advisement," he finally said. "Dismissed." 

Shiro left, frustrated and unsure if he'd accomplished anything. Keith had the potential to be goddamn _brilliant_ , but not a single one of the Garrison staff or administrators seemed to notice or care. It was as though the only concession they'd given to Keith was putting him in the advanced pilot course, and even then it was because his simulator scores were too damn high for them _not_ to. Yes, he could be stubborn, awkward, and standoffish, but when he was in his element, he was _amazing_.

And it rankled that Shiro seemed to be the only one who saw that.

***

The next day, Shiro was enjoying a sandwich in the middle of a blessed, blessed break in his office hours when someone pounded on his door. 

He quickly swallowed the bite he'd just taken and called, "Come in!" 

Keith burst through the door and slapped his hands on Shiro's desk. "What did you do?"

Shiro blinked. "What did I...What?" 

"I'm in Campbell's combat class," Keith said. "As of today. They moved me up." 

_Good._ Iverson had listened. "About time," Shiro muttered.

"Did you talk to the commander?" Keith asked. 

Shiro shrugged. "I mentioned it." 

Keith stood back and dropped his hands to his sides, gaping at Shiro. "You talked to them." 

This was definitely one of the stranger conversations Shiro had had. He frowned. "Yes? I said that I would." 

"Yeah, but." Keith huffed and dragged his hands through his hair. "You _did_ it." 

The way Keith was looking at him, Shiro wondered if this was the first time someone had made a promise to him and kept it. 

"Keith," Shiro said, gently but firmly. "When I say I'm going to do something, I do it. I mean that." 

"Shit happens," Keith muttered, but it sounded like something he'd heard a million times before. "And sometimes that shit is out of your control." 

"True," Shiro said, "but when it's in my control, I'm going to keep my promises." He checked the time on his tablet. "You've got five minutes to get to the gym before you're late for your first class with Campbell." 

Keith cursed and ran back to the door, then paused and looked back at Shiro. For the first time, he actually _smiled_. "Thank you." 

Shiro felt like someone had punched him right in the stomach. 

"You're welcome," he managed faintly, but Keith was already out the door and down the hall. 

Shiro watched the door long after Keith was gone, trying to figure out why he was still so short of breath.

***

Midterms hit near the end of October, which meant Shiro had to put his tutoring sessions on hold while he fought his way through his own tests. He only had three, which was better than some of his peers, but they were _rough_. 

He didn't realize how strange it was not to see Keith three times a week until two of their regular days had passed. Halfway through his own work, Shiro looked up to ask Keith how he was doing, only to remember that he was alone in his office. 

He immediately looked back down to his tablet, grateful that no one else was around to see how hot his cheeks were burning.

***

The next time he saw Keith, Shiro nearly tripped over him. 

He was sitting against the wall by Shiro's office, legs splayed halfway across the hall, dark hair hiding his face. 

Shiro had to juggle his bag to his other shoulder to keep from whacking Keith's head with it. "Keith? What happened?" 

Wordlessly, Keith held up his tablet, and Shiro took it. 

His midterm scores were listed there, and Shiro wasn't sure what he was supposed to be seeing. All of the scores were higher than what Keith had been getting at the beginning of the semester, or even the previous year. And he'd added nearly twenty points to his abominable navigation score. 

Shiro handed the tablet back. "Keith, these are great. You've shown a ton of improvement—" 

"It's not enough," Keith cut him off. 

Shiro lowered the tablet and waited for Keith to explain. 

"My nav score isn't high enough," Keith said thickly, and he swiped one gloved hand over his face. "If I don't ace the final, I'm out." 

"Keith—" Shiro began, though he had no idea what he was going to say.

Keith shoved himself off the floor and grabbed his tablet back. "I'm sorry." He didn't look up from the floor. "You've spent all this time trying to help me, and I still screwed it up." 

" _No_ ," Shiro said fiercely, and gripped Keith's shoulder. "You didn't. All of your scores are up, better than they were when we started this. And that means you _can_ get them higher. It just takes time." 

"I don't have time," Keith muttered. 

"Yes, you do," Shiro said. "And if they try to kick you out of this program because of _this_ nav score, I'll go to Iverson myself." 

Keith raised his head just enough that Shiro could glimpse his eyes through the fringe of his hair. It was almost too long for Garrison regulations. He probably needed to cut it soon. 

Shiro shook the thought away. "Listen to me. You can do this. I'm not giving up on you. So don't give up on yourself, either." 

Keith tensed under his hand, but otherwise didn't respond. 

Shiro sighed. He had a million other things he needed to do, but... "You want to spar?" 

Keith nodded vehemently.

"Okay." Shiro clapped him on the shoulder. "Let's go spar."

***

Letting Keith use him as a punching bag was even less fun than it sounded, and it sounded pretty terrible. Shiro woke up the next morning outstandingly sore, with a new bruise spreading along his ribs where Keith's foot had caught him harder than he'd anticipated. But Keith had looked...well, not exactly _better_ after their sparring session, but far less tense, and he'd given Shiro a thumbs-up to confirm their next tutoring session, so Shiro was going to count that as a win. 

Still, a bruise on his ribs wasn't great to deal with during his own daily routine, so by the time Shiro met Keith at their usual table in one of the study lounges, he was having trouble keeping the wince off his face. 

Keith, the perceptive asshole that he was, noticed. "What's wrong?" 

Shiro waved the question off and sat down. "It's nothing, I'm fine." 

Keith glared. "It's not nothing. You're carrying your bag on your other side, and you're walking differently. You're trying to keep weight off your right side. What happened?" 

Shiro had no idea why he'd thought Keith would let it go. He raised his eyebrows and pulled his tablet and computer out of his back. "It's a bruise. It'll go away in a couple of days." 

Keith's eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to Shiro's side. "Did I hurt you?" 

"We were sparring. It happens." Shiro tapped his stylus against Keith's tablet. "Come on, get your nav notes open."

Keith clenched his fist and made no move to actually do what Shiro had asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—" 

"I know you didn't," Shiro cut in. "Which is why it's not a big deal."

"You'll tell me if it is?" Keith asked. 

Shiro opened his mouth to say _of course_ , when he looked at Keith's face. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, and he projected nearly the same amount of abject misery that he had when he'd thought he was getting kicked out of the advanced program. 

"You're worried about me," Shiro said, not quite believing it. 

Keith huffed and looked away. "Of course I am."

There seemed to be an unspoken _you idiot_ at the end of that sentence. Shiro had no idea _why_ that filled him with fondness, but it did. Maybe because Keith didn't seem to worry about anyone else. "I'm fine," he said again. "And if I'm ever not, I promise I'll tell you, okay?" 

Keith's shoulders relaxed a fraction. "Okay." 

"Okay." Shiro turned back to his tablet. "Get your nav notes out. We've got less than six weeks until finals and a whole lot of ground to cover before then."

***

Six weeks looked like a lot of time on the calendar, but the rest of the semester sped by. As finals loomed closer, Shiro found himself slammed with students needing help, more people coming into his office hours than he'd had since the beginning of the year. The time he'd previously used for his own work vanished, and he was up until the wee hours of the morning finishing off projects and papers. 

At least it was only for a few weeks, he thought wryly, and wondered if anyone would notice if he skipped the first hour of his office hours for a nap. 

He woke with a start when someone barged into his office and the door slammed into the wall. Shiro jerked his head off his desk and rubbed his eyes, trying to see who it was. "Keith?" 

Keith stood in front of him, fists balled, his stance slowly relaxing as he looked around the office. "You were late. You're never late. How long have you been asleep?" 

Shiro dug a knuckle into his temple in an effort to clear the post-nap brain fog. "I...have no idea. What time is it?" 

"Almost eighteen hundred." 

Shiro groaned and dragged his hands over his face. "I was supposed to sleep for an hour, not four. Shit. I'm sorry, Keith. Do you have your things?" 

Keith frowned at him. "You look like hell. When was the last time you slept? Before today." 

"Uh...I got a couple of hours last night?" Shiro winced; he knew how that sounded. "And the night before." He was pretty sure, anyway. The past few days were kind of a blur at this point.

That did nothing to make Keith's frown go away. If anything, it got deeper. 

"It's just finals," Shiro said. "Par for the course for this time of year. If you've got your stuff, we can go ahead and get started." 

"No." 

Shiro blinked. "No?" 

Keith crossed his arms. "No. We're skipping today. We're going to the mess hall, you're going to eat something, and then you're going to bed." 

That was ridiculous. They couldn't skip a session, not this close to finals. "Keith, seriously, I'm fine." 

"Shiro, seriously, you're not." Keith was a stunningly good mimic. "I'll drag you back to your dorm room and sit outside it all night if I have to."

Shiro covered his mouth to hide his smile. "Lights out is at twenty-one hundred."

"Then I will sit outside your room for three hours and that will be three hours more sleep you'll get," Keith said through gritted teeth.

He should _not_ find this funny. He really shouldn't. But Keith looked so...disapproving, so _aggressively concerned_ , that he couldn't help it. 

Maybe Keith was right. Maybe he did need sleep. 

"Okay," Shiro finally relented. "I'll get dinner and go straight to bed. But I'm making this up to you tomorrow, I promise." 

"You'll make it up to me when you can see straight," Keith said. 

That time, Shiro _did_ laugh. 

They went to dinner together, Keith watching him like a hawk to make sure he ate "an appropriate amount," and then, as promised, Keith followed him all the way back to his dorm room. Like Shiro might up and return to the study lounges if he didn't. 

"Promise me you're going to sleep," Keith said.

Shiro raised his right hand. "I promise. I haven't broken one to you yet, have I?" 

Keith's mouth twitched up in a slight smile. "You haven't. So I'm holding you to this one, too." 

Shiro laughed and clapped Keith on the shoulder. "Whoever your soulmate is, they're going to be lucky to have someone like you looking after them." 

He realized what he'd said only after the words were out of his mouth, and turned back to apologize—if Keith had freaked out touching his soulmark, making a comment like _that_ definitely wouldn't be welcome. 

But Keith bit his lip, like he was fighting a smile. "You think so?" 

Of that, he was absolutely positive. "Yeah, I do." Shiro slid open the door to his dorm and gave Keith a two-fingered wave. "Thanks, Keith. I'll see you tomorrow." 

Keith returned the wave with a lazy salute. "Yes, sir."

***

It was the day after final scores were posted in December that Iverson called Shiro into his office. 

"We're sending a manned scientific mission to Kerberos at the end of May," Iverson said with absolutely zero preamble. 

The door behind Shiro hadn't even finished closing. He could only blink in surprise. "To the edge of the solar system?" 

"Yes." Iverson flicked something across his tablet. "You've been selected as the pilot." 

Shiro's jaw dropped. "What? _Me_?" 

Iverson gave him a glare that reminded Shiro he was speaking to a superior officer, and Shiro scrambled to correct. "I mean, yes, sir. I'd be honored." 

Iverson rolled his eye. " _Me_ , he says, like you aren't the best damn pilot we've produced in twenty years. We'll make the official announcement at the beginning of January. Try not to tell too many people before then. Dr. Samuel Holt is the mission commander, and his son, Matthew, will be going with you." 

Shiro knew Matt Holt. He was only nineteen, but he was in all of Shiro's upper-level science classes. "Yes, sir." 

"That's all, pilot. Dismissed."

***

Shiro headed back to his office in a daze. The first manned mission to the edge of the solar system, and he was going to fly it. He was going to be one of the first three humans _ever_ to set foot on Kerberos. This was a dream come true. This was everything he'd hoped for from the first time he remembered looking up at the stars, wondering what was out there, wishing he could reach out and touch them. 

And now he was going to. 

"Shiro!" 

He jerked himself out of his daze to see Keith sprinting down the hall, waving his tablet. "Shiro!" 

Shiro picked up his pace to get to Keith faster. "What is it?" 

Keith thrust the tablet at him. "Look!" 

Shiro caught the tablet so he could see what Keith was talking about. It was his final scores for the semester. 

Near-perfect scores in every single class. 

Shiro let out a whoop and grabbed Keith into a hug. "That's fantastic! I knew you could do it!" 

"I couldn't have done it without you," Keith said, and it looked like he was fighting a grin. 

Shiro let him go, but only so he could mess up Keith's hair. "That's a lie. You'd have figured it out." 

Keith ducked away and smoothed his hair back down, but he was grinning fully, now. "Want to spar? I've had Campbell for most of a semester. I could probably beat you now." 

"Sure," Shiro said. "Then we'll grab some dinner to celebrate. We both got good news today."

"What's your good news?" Keith asked. 

Shiro shook his head. "Tell you in the gym. It's secret." 

As he'd suspected, the gym was empty, with most people having chosen other ways to celebrate the end of the semester and the upcoming winter break. Shiro waited until they were in the locker room, though, and made sure no one else was around before he said, "The Garrison's sending a manned mission to Kerberos in May, and I'm going to be the pilot." 

Keith froze, his uniform shirt halfway over his head. "Kerberos? Like Pluto's moon, Kerberos?" 

Shiro nodded and stripped off his own shirt, and then set to work on his boots. "That's the one. We've never sent anybody out that far. It's just...I still can't believe it. Iverson told me just before I ran into you." 

He looked back at Keith, who was in a black T-shirt and bare feet now, folding his uniform shirt to set on his boots. 

Shiro frowned. "You okay?" 

Keith jumped, like he'd been surprised, and slammed his locker shut. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...that's a huge trip." 

"Tell me about it," Shiro agreed. He _still_ wasn't sure it was real. "I still can't believe they picked me." 

Keith snorted and rubbed one hand over the other, picking at the back of his fingerless gloves. "You're the best pilot at the Garrison. Who else would they pick?" 

It _sounded_ like Keith, but there was something off about his voice. Shiro couldn't put his finger on it. "That's about what Iverson said," Shiro admitted. "You sure you're okay?" 

"Fine." Keith popped his knuckles. "Now put your stuff away so I can kick your ass." 

Shiro chuckled to himself. "Good luck with that."

***

He regretted the words the second they were on the mat, because Shiro had barely gotten into his stance when Keith _lunged_ at him.

He blocked the first strike and narrowly dodged the second, but Keith was out of range and darting back in from another angle even faster than he'd been before. Shiro managed to keep ahead of him, but only just. One of Keith's strikes grazed his chin, and shit, Shiro was going to be damn lucky if he got out of this _without_ an injury. 

He threw himself fully into defending, mitigating any damage Keith could do. Campbell's class had clearly been good for him, and Shiro found himself wondering just _how much_ Keith had been holding back the past few times they'd sparred. It hadn't even been a full two weeks since the last time. 

Keith was furious, and Shiro had no idea why. 

He dodged the next strike, Keith's foot caught his ankle, and the next thing Shiro knew, he was flat on his back on the mat, with Keith pinning him there. 

Shiro blinked to keep the sweat from running into his eyes. "You mind telling me what all that was about, then?" he asked calmly. 

Keith flinched and scrambled to the side. Shiro sat up and swiped his hand across his forehead. He wanted to ask again, but he also didn't want to push. 

Keith was cross-legged on the mat, staring at his hands in his lap. Then, he pulled his gloves off. 

"What are you—" Shiro started to ask, and the words died on his lips when he saw the dark scrawl across the backs of Keith's hands. 

His soulmark. 

Keith didn't move closer, but he thrust his right fist out toward Shiro. 

Cautiously, Shiro scooted closer so he could read it, but a cold tingle was already creeping up the back of his spine. 

He looked down at Keith's fist. 

_But you can call me Shiro_ , it read, covering the back of Keith's hand, the name itself right across his wrist. 

Wordlessly, Shiro held out his hand, and Keith stretched over his left hand. Shiro took it gently, but he already knew what it was going to say. 

_Hi, I'm Takashi Shirogane_.

The first sentence he'd ever said to the class, months ago now. The first sentence he'd ever said to _Keith_ , and he hadn't even known it. 

He let go of Keith's hand and gripped his own wrist, right over the soulmark he'd started wrapping every time they sparred. 

_Yes, sir_. 

Keith was his soulmate. 

Keith was his soulmate and _he'd known this entire time_. 

Shiro counted his breaths until he could ask the question without shouting. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

Keith folded his hands in his lap and continued to stare at the mat. "I know the rules. They'd make you give up the class, or kick me out. Or both." He took a shaky breath. "I just wanted to get to know you before that happened."

Shiro closed his eyes briefly. "Without letting me get to know you in the same way?" 

Keith snapped his head up, eyes round and glistening with tears. "Shiro—" 

"When _were_ you going to tell me? Or were you ever?" 

Keith flinched as surely as if Shiro had slapped him. He looked back down at the mat. "After the class was over. In May." 

Holy hell. Keith would have let him go _ten months_ without knowing, and the only reason he wasn't was... "In May, when I'm leaving for Kerberos."

Keith didn't respond, but then, he didn't need to. 

Shiro buried his face in his hands. He didn't know what to think right now. He didn't know what to feel. He'd found his soulmate; this was supposed to be a _happy_ thing, but Keith had spent four months _hiding_ that from Shiro. And he wasn't sure if that really mattered, because they couldn't do anything about it until Keith graduated, and now Shiro was going to be gone for a year of that time. 

But he would've liked the chance to make the decision for how to handle it himself. 

Shiro unfolded his legs and got to his feet. He needed a chance to clear his head, and he couldn't do it here. 

He'd taken three steps toward the locker room when he heard Keith whisper, "Please don't leave." 

_It would serve you right if I did_ , Shiro thought, and was appalled at his own viciousness.

Even so, he had to make himself stop walking and turn back. 

Keith looked gutted, like a light breeze could touch him and he'd fall to pieces. He stared at the mat, like he was afraid to look up.  
_  
_ Shiro cursed at himself, strode back across the mat, and hauled Keith up and into a hug. 

Keith went stiff as a board for three seconds, and then he mashed his face into Shiro's shoulder and fisted his hands in the back of his tank top. 

"I'm angry," Shiro said quietly, because he was. That much was clear. "I feel like you took a choice away from me by not letting me know sooner. And I need some time alone to think things through. But I'm going to, and you're going to, and then we're going to sit down and talk and figure this out." 

Keith nodded into his shoulder, and his grip on Shiro's shirt tightened. 

Okay. That was...good enough for now, Shiro guessed. "I'm going to go now. We'll talk later, okay?" 

"Okay," Keith said softly. 

Shiro carefully extricated himself from the hug, and this time when he walked away, Keith looked a little less like he was going to break apart.

***

The first thing Shiro did after taking a shower and changing his clothes was to head to Iverson's office. He knocked once and waited for the gruff "Come in" before entering. 

"Pilot," Iverson said without looking up from his computer. 

"Commander." Shiro stood at attention. "I think someone else needs to take over the advanced class, sir."

Iverson grumbled and sat back in his chair. "Figured out which one of them was your soulmate, did you?" 

Shiro nodded. "I don't think it's right for me to stay in the position, considering." 

"Oh, hell." Iverson scrubbed a hand over his face. "It's Kogane, isn't it?" 

Shiro gaped. _He'd_ only just found out it was Keith; how could Iverson know? "How did you...?" 

Iverson linked his fingers and rested them on his desk. "Shirogane, you've made protecting that kid your personal mission for the past four months. If it _wasn't_ him, I'd be stunned." 

Shiro opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it. That was probably a fair assessment. 

"Now, the only reason I'm _accepting_ your resignation as teaching assistant is because you're going to be busy preparing for the Kerberos mission and I don't want your focus split." Iverson jabbed a finger in Shiro's direction. "Do _not_ consider that encouragement to pursue anything with Kogane. But...kid's had it rough. It's good he has someone like you in his corner." 

Shiro wondered, not for the first time, just how rough Keith had had it. "I...thank you, sir."

***

It was after dinner before Shiro finally felt steady enough to go find Keith. He still wasn't entirely sure what they were going to do, or what exactly he was going to say, but he at least had the basics in his head. 

It felt strange to walk through the cadet dorms once again; Shiro hadn't set foot in them since he'd graduated. A few cadets rushed past him in the hall, and at least once Shiro swore he heard someone whisper, " _Do you know who that was?_ " 

This was probably not the best idea he'd ever had. 

He found his way to Keith's room and knocked on the door. After a moment, it slid open, revealing both Keith, still in his T-shirt from earlier, and a blast of loud music. 

"Hey," Shiro said. "Can we talk?" 

Keith glared over his shoulder, and Shiro craned his neck to see Keith's roommate, playing air drums with his fingers and stylus. Keith's eye twitched.

Yeah, this wasn't going to work. "Can we talk somewhere quieter?" Shiro asked. 

"God, yes," Keith said.

He grabbed his uniform shirt and closed the door; the silencing of the music was an immediate relief. 

"How do you live like that?" Shiro asked. 

Keith shrugged his shirt on, but didn't bother to button it up. "We struck a deal. He kept it quiet for the two weeks before finals, and I'd let him blare it as loud as he wanted once we were done." 

"Not a bad deal," Shiro said. 

They walked in relative silence, but unlike so many other times, it _was_ awkward. Keith was stiff, his shoulders drawn up like a guard. Shiro wanted to say something to break the tension, but he didn't have the faintest idea what. 

Out of the cadet dorms, he turned right down a corridor, heading toward a door he hadn't gone through in years. 

"Where are we going?" Keith asked. 

"Somewhere we can talk privately," Shiro said.

The door was locked, but apparently the Garrison command hadn't bothered to fix it yet, because it was just as easy to open as it had been when Shiro was a cadet. He led Keith up the stairwell and out onto the roof. The cold air was brisk, but not quite unpleasant, and the night sky stretched out above them, thousands of stars sparkling overhead. 

Keith gaped. "Holy shit, how did you know about this?" 

"A group of seniors brought us up here my first year as a cadet," Shiro said. "Swore us to secrecy." 

He sat near the edge of the building, where he could see the dark shadows of the mountains in the distance. After a moment, Keith took a seat beside him, but not too close. 

Shiro swallowed. He knew this conversation was going to be personal, had hoped that the roof might be a good place to have it, but he couldn't quite find the words to begin. "Keith—"

"I'm sorry," Keith blurted out. 

Okay, he hadn't expected Keith to be the one to start the conversation. Shiro raised his eyebrows and shifted to the side so that he could face Keith, rather than the desert. 

Keith had his gloves back on, and he was wringing his hands—no, not wringing, Shiro realized. Rubbing his soulmarks. 

"You were right," Keith continued softly. "I shouldn't have...I didn't have any right to make that decision for you. I should've told you. I'm sorry I didn't." 

Shiro waited to see if anything else was forthcoming. When Keith didn't say any more, he ventured, "Why didn't you say something? Was it just because you were afraid of getting kicked out of the program, or me leaving the teaching position?" 

Keith shook his head. "I thought...if you knew it was me, you wouldn't want anything to do with me." 

Shiro stared. That...was not a response he'd anticipated. "Why in the world would you think that?"

Keith shrugged. "Nobody's ever really...wanted me around. I thought if I was just one of your students, it would be easier." He stared fixedly at his lap. "It's stupid. I'm sorry." 

"I am angry. And you should've told me," Shiro said. "But...I think I should've been less surprised than I was. I knew it was someone in the class." 

Keith snorted. "There are twenty of us." 

"Yes, exactly, _including you_ ," Shiro pointed out. "And we've spent a lot of time together. We clicked. It should have occurred to me before today." 

"It's not your fault," Keith argued. "It wasn't—" 

"I turned in my resignation as teaching assistant to Iverson today," Shiro interjected. 

Keith balked and sucked in a breath. 

"Because I wanted to, don't give me that look," Shiro said, cutting off whatever argument was forthcoming. "I made that choice. But when I told him it was because I found my soulmate, he guessed it was you without me saying a word." 

Keith's mouth clamped shut, and he stared at him in disbelief.

Shiro cleared his throat. "If it's so obvious I care about you that the _commander_ can guess it, I feel like I should've clued in a little sooner." 

Keith ducked his head. "I still should've told you." 

"I'm not arguing that point," Shiro said. "But...yeah." 

Now, _now_ , he didn't have any idea what to say. Even if Shiro wasn't a teacher anymore, Keith was still a cadet, and Iverson hadn't exactly been ambiguous with that last warning. General Garrison regulations were that they preferred soulmates to wait until both parties had graduated before pursuing a serious romantic relationship, no matter what the age difference was between them. Shiro knew a dozen people who had stayed, and another dozen who had left with their soulmate rather than wait. 

Shiro pushed back his sleeve and rubbed his thumb over his soulmark. Really, with a soulmark like _yes, sir_ , he should've expected a situation like this. "Maybe it's good that I'll be gone for a year." 

Keith snapped his head around. " _What?_ " 

"Unless we both want to leave the Garrison, we have to wait until you graduate, anyway." Shiro sighed and tipped his head back to look at the stars. "Do you want to leave?"

"No," Keith said softly. "I feel like...that's wrong, or something, because everyone always says nothing's going to be as important to you as your soulmate, but..." 

Shiro closed his eyes and huffed a laugh. "But there's nothing like flying." 

"Yeah," Keith said, his voice awestruck. "I just...I've always wanted to go out there. At first it was to get away, but now... I want to _see_ , you know?"

Shiro knew. He understood that feeling at the very core of his soul, just as he knew, when he opened his eyes, that Keith would be gazing at the stars above, with a look on his face that Shiro knew all too well. 

_Which might,_ he thought wryly, _explain why we're soulmates._

He turned back to the sky. "So, we wait. By the time I get back from Kerberos, you'll have graduated, and then..." 

"And then what?" Keith asked. 

Shiro tore his gaze from the sky to look at him. Keith was _smiling_ , just a slight tilt of his lips, but it was there. 

"And then I'm going to ask you out for coffee," Shiro finished. 

Keith scoffed. "Not if I ask you first." 

For the first time since he'd found out they were soulmates, Shiro felt lighter. He grinned. "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." 

Keith fidgeted. "Can I see it?" 

"See what?" 

Keith rubbed the inside of his wrist. "Your mark." 

_**Your** mark_ , Shiro thought, but he held out his arm, wrist upturned, so that Keith could see it. 

Keith took his hand, gently, and pushed back Shiro's sleeve. His fingers skimmed over the mark, and Shiro held his breath at the contact. 

Then, Keith kissed the mark, so softly Shiro would have sworn he'd imagined it if it weren't for the fact that he'd _seen_ him do it. 

"Hold on to that for me," Keith said, and let go of his hand. 

Oh boy. Shiro was suddenly grateful that he _was_ going to be gone for a year, because he was starting to doubt his ability to wait otherwise. 

He tugged his sleeve over the mark and pressed his left hand to his wrist, like he could somehow hold Keith's touch there a little longer. "I will." He cleared his throat. "And when I get back, I'd better find out you've broken every record I ever set." 

Keith grinned. "Yes, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> Notes on the teacher-student tag:  
> So Keith is a cadet, Shiro is essentially his TA, and they are soulmates, but they don't embark on a romantic relationship in the story. It's definitely implied they will in the future, though. So it's not really teacher-student, but it's close enough that I figured better safe than sorry with the tag.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mad_madam_m)!


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